by Rita Hestand
No matter how interesting the place was, her eyes kept straying to the big bed. Oh, how she'd love to get into that after her bath! Exhaustion and, no doubt, the change in altitude were not helping matters.
"It belonged to my parents," he murmured near her. Too near. "It was the only thing I managed to save from their burned out home. Dad called it their marrying bed."
"I--I'm sorry," Kasie stuttered, taken by surprise.
The intimacy of the bed put a new tension into their path. A marrying bed? She wanted to ask, but bit her lip instead.
Despite her intentions not to get involved, a feeling of intimacy swamped her. After all, they were going to be her in-laws once; she had every right to be upset about them now. "It's a beautiful bed."
"My father made it for my mother, before they were married."
"You must treasure--"
"Yeah, well, I keep the majority of food in the cellar outside, if you're wondering about that refrigerator. I hope you've cooked on a wood-burning stove."
Obviously, he didn't want to become emotional, either, although she remembered how much he loved to talk about his parents. He was a man unafraid to admit his feelings for his family. She liked that. Dammit, she didn't want to like anything about the man.
"But you have an electric--"
"Yeah, but we have no electricity. The storm must have knocked it out. I'll set what little is in the fridge out in the freezer later. The food will spoil otherwise. Sometimes the wind knocks the electricity out. That's the reason for special lights, and the wood-burning stove and fireplace."
God, he was beautiful. She watched him from the corner of her eyes. She had forgotten how beautiful. Never in her life had Kasie chased men, but when she met Chay Amory, she hadn't been able to keep her eyes off him. She had fallen in love with him at first sight, and as she grew to know him, she had loved him more.
But she had to put that aside now. He had brought her here against her will. Besides, she was an engaged woman, and she'd better remember it.
Then something else occurred to her. Did he actually expect her to do the cooking? Did he honestly think she was staying here, in a cabin with no electricity, in a storm that might strand her, with a man who might…
The possibilities of what could happen were unlimited, and her imagination had been stretched.
A smile lingered on his masculine lips.
"Sorry, honey, but it looks as though we are going to have to make the best of things. Your father hasn't shown up yet, as you can plainly see. It's understandable in this weather. His plane was probably delayed."
Whether it was from the same furtive feeling she had had all along, or just plain anger, Kasie pounced on him, for lack of anything else to pounce upon. Anger became her strength.
"Now, wait a minute! Wait just a cotton-picking minute! And don't call me 'honey'!" She backed up. He came closer. "You needn't think I'm going to camp out with you 'til my father gets here."
"You don't have much choice."
"Of course I do. I've got to get back. I don't know what you expected, but I've got a job, a family and friends who expect me to show up. Not to mention a wedding I play an important role in. You said it would only be a day or two. I was nice enough to come here with you, without too much of a fight, but my father is not here, and I'm not about to stay here with the likes of you. If he was here, I could talk to him, and fly back by morning, and nothing would be disturbed. I've gone along with this, fully expecting to leave in time for my wedding."
Amory eyed her a moment. If his temper flared, he didn't let on. "Without too much of a fight? That's rich, considering the scar I'm going to have. But you don't have any choice." His voice sounded final. "Take a good look around you, brat. That's a full-blown snowstorm out there, in case you aren't aware of it. The electric is already out. And I don't intend driving in this snow anymore tonight. Besides, I've got repairs to make. So face it--you're stuck. And so am I!"
His voice had gone throaty, his expression weary. He went to the fireplace and checked his wood supply, with total indifference. In minutes he had a roaring fire going and was giving her the cold shoulder.
"No!" she protested, following his every step now, refusing his logic. "You got me up here to see my father. And he's not here. I want to leave now, thank you!
"Enough is enough. He isn't here. And I intend to leave. I saw how capably you handled the Jeep in this weather. You live here. You're used to this. We can go down as easily as we came up. I've been rather nice, considering."
"Nice? You call biting my hand off, nice?"
"You call kidnapping nice?"
Turning on her, his eyes pinned her, but he tempered his anger.
"Believe me, I'd like nothing better than to get rid of you. Like I said, this wasn't my idea, bringing you here, but you are here. And if you think I'm getting back out in that, you're crazy. I'm dead tired on my feet, and I'm getting some rest tonight, one way or another."
"Fine, I'll stay at the Inn in Eugene until my father arrives. Probably got a late flight, like you said."
"You're not listening. You could, if we could get down. But we can't. The snow plows won't be out until dawn, and not even then, if it doesn't let up. No, I'm afraid you and I are stuck with each other, like it or not. We are not going anywhere, tonight. It's up to your father now."
"C-couldn't we fly out?" Kasie was slowly beginning to see the reality of the situation, and sheer panic drove her to procrastinate.
She couldn't stay here with Amory all night, not with that gorgeous bed staring at her.
"Visibility alone wouldn't permit it. Flying in this weather is pure suicide."
Damn, he was so logical, having all the answers she didn't want to hear. All she wanted to do was scream at him, pound on him, something. She walked over to the window instead, and realized there was nothing moving except snow. It looked as lonely as she felt. Her hand moved up and down the window frame, keeping time with the falling flakes that had become much bigger since they had left Rosie's general store.
The day had been a nightmare.
Her glance went about the place again. The window must have cost a fortune to install, her mind wandered. Better to think of windows than being trapped with Amory.
She wondered about him. Was he rich now? His parents were dead; perhaps they had left a sum of money for him. He didn't look like a rich man. Nor act like one, although Amory was not a material kind of man. He didn't dress like one, either, although his jeans were well cut, and his shirt nicely pressed. Did he iron them himself, or did he have a maid, or maybe even a girlfriend? My, how her mind was taking flight. She didn't care if he had a maid or a girlfriend, she only knew she wanted to leave, and he was preventing her.
"Is there anyway Dad can fly in?" she asked, leaning against the window frame and staring at him.
"Not in this weather. And I'm sure you wouldn't want him to try. But stop worrying, he'll be here, sooner or later."
"Lord, I hope so." She moved away, toward the fireplace, to warmth. "But I'm just too tired to worry about it any more tonight." she sighed with total resignation. She shook her head and hugged herself, then moving toward the fireplace, she spread her hands out in front of the fire, basking in the warmth flooding her. She could handle this situation for a short while--if she had to. She'd show him. She had learned a few things in eight years. She was no longer subject to his charms.
She should have put up a bigger fight coming up here. She should be in total panic. She should be screaming at the top of her lungs. She should be doing a lot of things, but what good would it do? Besides, who would hear her up here, in the middle of nowhere? Maybe tomorrow she'd scream. Maybe tomorrow she'd make his life so miserable, he'd be glad to take her home, under any conditions.
"Look, we better get a few things straight right off the bat. I won't do battle with you, Kasie."
She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued.
"You are here, and you're stuck for the time bein
g. There's no dishwasher, no microwave, no TV. Wood has to be chopped daily for the stove and fire. There's no central heat, like I'm sure you're used to. No thermostats. We do have running water, but I use the pump strictly for well water. Drinking water. This isn't a townhouse, and you're not a guest. As long as you are here, you'll do your share of the work. I don't have time to baby-sit a woman."
He sounded rough and almost mad. Why should he be mad? He had made her come with him, hadn't he? This was his idea, not hers!
Still, nothing he said bothered her. If he could survive, so could she. She'd show him! That is until one thing hit her, and hit her hard. It was like cold, icy water splashing in a sleepy face. She glanced around the room frantically before her eyes landed on him again. Her eyes got big, wide, and expectant. She felt like a child, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
All the way up here she had contemplated only one thing. There was only one thing to look forward to, one thing. But where was it?
"Where's the bathroom?" she muttered thickly between gritted teeth.
Despite his suddenly blackened mood, despite the fact that everything was beginning to look bleak, a rumble came from him, until it bubbled into what sounded like a strange, strangled, laugh.
"There's a washtub outside for bathing, if you're wanting a bath. But you'll have to bring it in, fill it with heated water from the stove, and then empty it. As for the other, there's a pot under the bed, with a cover. Personally, I opt for the outhouse out back. But at least you have a choice. There are no walls, but you can pull the curtain around the bed when you need it. I'm sorry, honey, but it's the best I can offer. I haven't finished the place yet. You see, I wasn't expecting company for a while. Especially company like you. Since you're tired, I'd advise you to take a spit bath, and call it a night."
"A what?" she asked, as though he had lit the last fuse, and she was about to blow.
"A quick wash at the sink," he said, with a slight smile to his sober face.
She glanced up at the curtain, hung similar to a bathtub curtain on a rod that circled the entire bed. It was thin material, but at least it was something.
Still, the man had no bathroom, and in such weather, too. Why, one trip to the bathroom, if that's what he called it, would chill her to the bone. She never once expected such primitive conditions, not from a man so well acquainted with John Douglas.
"I see," she said between gritted teeth again. This had to be some kind of test. Or a bad dream. He was standing there waiting for her to scream aloud, or tap her foot again or something. But instead, she just stood there. Every nerve in her body shook. A scream seemed inevitable.
"Are there any more surprises? I mean, aside from the fact that I'm stuck up here in the middle of nowhere, with you, with no bathroom, and a very untimely father. A wife or girlfriend, perhaps?"
The smile faded from his handsome face. "No, neither."
She nearly laughed. "Don't tell me. She stole your heart. And left you because she couldn't handle these primitive conditions, I'll bet. Even you should know that a bathroom isn't a luxury any more."
He turned on her again, his eyes narrowing into slits, "There aren't any women in my heart, Kasie. I don't need them. You pointed that out, a few years ago. Anyway, when and if I arry, it'll be for all the right reasons, with the right woman."
His glance slid from her head to her toe, intimately.
"Is there anything else I should know?"
"Well, let's see. There are a couple of things about your father I should mention. He had a by-pass last year, and you've heard about him remarrying, other than that, no."
Her jaw dropped.
He smiled. "Look, I've got some stew and cornbread in the refrigerator. I'll light the stove for you, and you can heat it up while I make a few general repairs. Maybe a little food will put both of us in a better humor. I'll give you plenty of time to wash up and change for bed, so stop fretting."
"I didn't come here to cook for you! Fix it yourself."
Her words hung in the air between them, like a gauntlet. A silence filled the cabin, and then Amory's steel flinted gaze encompassed her. He moved in closer.
"You better get it straight. You're here, like it or not. And we have to eat. Unless you want to be up all night, you'll do the cooking. I'm not a baby-sitter. Around here, the first available person does whatever is necessary. You'll carry your own weight, for as long as you're here. Because, you see, I don't care whose daughter you are, or how rich you are. Got it?"
She opened her mouth to argue, but he merely turned away.
Like talking to a wall, she gestured to the air.
After a long silence she added. "I'm not cooking for you."
"You don't know how?" His head quirked comically.
"Of course I know how, but I'm not cooking for you," she insisted, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him.
His frown deepened. "Fine, then you won't eat."
"Fine."
Her stomach rumbled quietly. She ignored the hunger pangs. She wasn't about to cook for him, even if it meant starving. Her stomach rumbled again, she frowned.
What she really wanted to do was curl up in the big feather bed, alone, and forget this entire day.
He stalked from the cabin and didn't return for several minutes. After making a few general repairs on the lean-to, he came inside to warm his supper, and ate in total silence. She grumbled to herself, she didn't need food; she didn't need conversation, either. Besides, the more they talked, the worse things got. A by-pass! Remarried! How many more surprises?
But the fact that she was miles from nowhere with a man she had once contemplated marrying, soon zeroed in on her like a tidal wave.
He joined her by the fire. This seemed a bit too cozy for comfort. Snowbound with Chay Amory.
Would her mother worry, or would she suspect that Kasie was simply pulling another of her little stunts?
Would anyone come looking for her? Yeah, right--up here in the great nowhere! She frowned again. Her stomach continued to rumble.
"There's some stew left, if you're hungry."
She had fallen totally silent, and stared hopelessly into the fire.
"I'm not."
"Still just as hardheaded, aren't you?"
"Maybe."
"I don't remember you being so stubborn before, but then my opinions were biased back then."
"You don't have to put on an act, Amory. I know exactly what you thought of me, back then--and now."
The painful memory stabbed at her, as her words tumbled freely out of her mouth.
"Do you? I wonder?" His eyes glittered dangerously into hers.
"I'm really not in the mood to play games. I want some sleep, and that's all," she said quietly.
"I agree. Only I think I better get you a shirt to sleep in. It seems we overlooked the need for those kinds of clothes while shopping at Rosie's. Naturally, we didn't know your father wouldn't be here."
"I didn't, at least. But no thanks; I'll wear what I have on. I've made it this far, I can stand it a little longer."
"Maybe you can, but I can't," he said, going to a closet, and coming back to her with a big flannel shirt. "You're not sleeping in my bed smelling like a fish."
He came closer, holding the shirt up to her.
"Well, I was fishing, and you didn't give me a chance for a shower."
"I guess that is my fault. But you will sleep in my shirt. A little big, but maybe you can survive one night in it. Too bad I forgot to take care of this problem, but I simply didn't think it would be necessary."
She glanced at the soft flannel shirt and shook her head. Sleeping in his shirt seemed--indecent.
"I don't think so."
"It's either that, or nothing. And it gets a little cold for the latter."
She eyed him closely, facing his challenging words with not so much as a blink. "I'll take the shirt, then."
"I figured you would."
"And you think you know me so well."
<
br /> "Better than most," he said with a low chuckle, handing her the shirt.
"It merely stems from a good upbringing. But let me put your mind to rest once and for all about me, Amory. I'd grow old and gray and alone before I would succumb to a backwoods Romeo like you again. I've grown up, and acquired some intelligence and taste in the process. While we're at it, let me remind you that I am still John Douglas' daughter, and I would think if you don't have any respect for me, at least you might show some for him."
Had she put him in his place yet? She knew if she was going to survive this ordeal she would need some leverage between them, and anger was as good as any. As long as he stayed reasonably angry with her, he wouldn't get other ideas, she decided, and neither would she.
